


hunger

by touchstarved



Series: swallowed whole [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, M/M, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Protective Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29123013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchstarved/pseuds/touchstarved
Summary: Some nights, he looks at you like he could swallow you whole.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Reader
Series: swallowed whole [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136954
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	hunger

Life with Hannibal is easy.

He takes care of everything. The fridge is always stocked, rooms always cleaned. You find your laundry folded and tucked back in your drawers before you even realize the hamper has been emptied. If there’s anything you have a particular craving for, you need only say the word—and sometimes not even that. He’s scarily perceptive, after all. Sometimes it feels as though he recognizes your needs before you do.

* * *

Life with Hannibal is organized. Planned. You have a schedule—rise at eight, breakfast at nine. Typically you’ll squeeze in a run in between, get some use out of the glossy treadmill in the spare room that doubles as a gym. You run for twenty, thirty minutes—just long enough to break a sweat, long enough for your heart to settle into a quick, steady pace, long enough for the rush of blood in your ears to block out any unsavory thoughts.

When you get out of the shower to dry off your hair, often times you’ll find an outfit laid out for you on the bed, prechosen.

Planned.

Easy.

* * *

Life with Hannibal is safe. You’re so precious to him, after all. He trusts you, he assures you; it’s the others he fears. The outside world. If someone were to pick the locks, force their way in, how would you defend yourself? What if something were to happen?

So it’s only natural that he triple check the locks on his way out for the day, that he toss a quick glance up to the security cameras in the corner of each room. It’s only been a week since he allowed you down from the second floor, given you free reign of the place. It’s new to both of you, this level of freedom—of course he’s nervous! The locks, the cameras, they’re just basic security measures. You remind yourself of that, any time you feel the discontent bubble up in your throat; this is for you, all for you. You’re secure here. You’re _safe_.

(Even if you don’t always feel that way.)

* * *

Life with Hannibal is ~~boring~~ luxurious. You have all the free time in the world. After all, you don’t have to work. Why would you? He takes care of everything. You’re ~~expected~~ excited to better yourself, become more educated. He brings you books to read, literature and philosophy and medicine. You discuss the texts over dinner (prepared by him, of course—you’re still not allowed in the kitchen. It’s too dangerous, sweetheart—knives, open flames. Yes, he’ll teach you to cook. Eventually. One of these days. There’s no rush. You have all the time in the world, right?). You’re receiving a world-class education without the price tag; how lucky is that? How fortunate. If only your (former) friends and family could see you now.

He doesn’t always come home to you with a smile. There’s a disconcerting subtlety to his anger; a curl of the lip, a tension in his shoulders, his jaw, his hands. You’ve learned to tread more carefully on those days. Complain less. Dote more. He’s never hurt you. He would _never_ hurt you; he tells you that every day. You tell yourself that every day. Perhaps there is some truth to it; after all, he’s never so much as raised his voice to you before. But on those days, on the days where he walks in quiet and pulls away from your embrace, you can feel the way he looks at you across the dinner table. Something like hunger in his eyes. Not lust, _hunger_. It’s a primal, animalistic thing, and it terrifies you.

On those nights, he looks at you like he could swallow you whole.

**Author's Note:**

> hello loves! felt like posting something, so i banged this out real quick. doesn't require having read my other Hannibal/Reader oneshot, but they both came from the same place in my brain. 
> 
> Hannibal is, at first glance, an odd choice of comfort character, but I do think (at least for me) much of the appeal comes from how put together he is, how stable (on the surface, at least). But Hannibal's brand of stability stems from a need for total control; he's able to relinquish some control when he meets his match in Will, but in every other relationship (and even his relationship with Will) we see time and time again that his method of interacting with ANY other human being is manipulation. 
> 
> so anyway, whenever i comfort-fanfic Hannibal in my head it's always like "I am a mess so it would be nice to have someone just,,,,tell me what to do," but it's always more fun when writing to explore the ways in which that can go very, very wrong. so this fic series stems from my little fanfic-headcanon of a reader insert living with Hannibal/under his thumb, presumably after some form of kidnapping/brainwashing. might add more to this series if any more little vignettes hit me. probably won't do smut but like,,,,never say never, i guess?
> 
> love you all! if you read this entire note, blessings upon you. if you enjoy this and feel like dropping kudos/a comment, extra blessings! see you all soon.


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